Welcome to the Pride Parade [Frerard AU]

Part III: Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 – QUEER AND MENACE

A/N: Once again, the painting on Gerard's arm is pictured above on my own. Enjoy the chapter!

The third and final day of pride came too quickly. I wasn't ready for the weekend to end, but was simultaneously finding this as a solid motivation for waking up in the morning.

It definitely struck me the wrong way that these protesters who were so full of hate were calling themselves Catholics. Christians! They hadn't even let me get out a word about how I identified myself as a Catholic.

Was I still allowed to call myself Catholic if I was in a gay relationship?

I pushed that intrusive thought away; I wasn't in the mood for a deep, religious train of thought at the moment.

I still had my pastels, and my painting from yesterday was faded, revealing a blank canvas underneath. So I selected the red pastel and let it hover over my forearm, sort of second-guessing that this was something I could do without being called sacrilegious.

Whatever. God couldn't actually hate me for loving, could he? The sheer idea of that sounded outrageous, and I trusted my gut.

I touched the oily surface to my skin and traced a cross over my forearm, and switching to white, I outlined it. Green and blue swirls decorated the surrounding areas and purple shadows gave it some sort of depth until a sleeve of what may or may not have been a paradox coated my arm.

I glanced in the mirror, twisting and rotating my arm and watching how different muscles made the art stretch in different ways. It seemed too subtle to me.

I used my black pastel to trace over a few places – specifically the shape of the cross which had gotten a little lost in the pattern – and realized how dramatically the dark stood out on my vampire-pale skin tone. Perfect contrast. I could do something with this knowledge.

I held the charcoal black pastel in front of my face, and slowly lifted it to my forehead. No – I couldn't hide it at all if I put it there, and I still had to get out the door and pass by my family, so I'd probably want to shield my work, at least temporarily.

My eyes scanned my reflection, falling slowly down my profile. I studied my neck. Where could I hide it if I wanted to?

I brushed my hair out of the way to expose the left side of my neck. Twirled the pastel in my hand, flipped it over my fingers in thought. My hair was long enough to cover it if people didn't stare too long, but... It was visible if I wanted it to be. I could get away with it.

Carefully I traced the letter C onto my neck, ensuring it appeared backwards in the mirror.

A. T. H. O. L. I. C.

Finished with the pastel, I lifted it from my skin and stood back to see how it looked in the mirror. The handwriting wasn't perfect, but it was readable.